“Holy shit, there’s a giant hairdryer in the pool,” Darcy exclaims. She drags her headphones off, wincing at the strands of her hair that go with it.
The hairdryer is yellow and red, a few shades off from Natasha’s hair color–this week anyway. It might not be a hairdryer–they didn’t normally come without a cord–but it definitely isn’t a car. And definitely, definitely isn’t real.
“Okay, Darcy, it’s fine, just chill out. It’s just an illusion. Bad energy from Ian. Totally not real,” she says to herself. Ian wasn’t evil, not like that neo-nazi Spencer working at the Vape Lounge by Curl Up & Dye who kept asking her tits out. But he was a controlling douche-nozzle who was too busy boinking everyone but her to go on a third date. Gaslighting walnut. “Right, positive thinking, D. The hairdryer isn’t there and you can jump in and swim right through it.”
She drops her phone and headphones onto the lounger and dives into the pool head-first. It’s not her best decision.
The hairdryer is very, very, real and very solid. Just like the lump on her head.
“Oh my gawd,” Darcy screeches, scrambling back from the blue furry thing hovering over her. “This is not happening. Is it?”
“Ziz zit,” says the blue alien.
“Sizzz it,” echo two more furry figures, one red with a shiny yellow arm, the other Big Bird yellow.
“Oh gawd, it is. I’m on a spaceship. I’ve been abducted by Teletubbies. This is all banana-balls. I mean, why would you wanna abduct me? My roommate Jane maybe, she’s like super smart, or Helen down the block, who’s, like, just as smart. And me, I’m just a manicurist with an awesome music collection. Oh gawd, you’re gonna probe me aren’t you? I’m super not into furries, so, like, yanno, your kink is not my kink?”
“Miii ink-k,” says blue.
“My kink-k,” says the yellow alien.
“Kink-ee,” says red.
“Wow, you learn quick. Yeah, I just wanna go home and not be in a magazine next to an article about the Jersey Devil and Bat Boy having brunch with Elvis,” Darcy says backing up slowly. “Wait, are we still in my pool?”
“Okay you guys, what’s the plan for tonight?” Natasha asks as she twists a lock of her red hair around her finger.
“Whoa, Natasha, reality check. We can’t go out with these guys, they’re aliens!” Darcy protests.
“So? They can still be dates,” Nat says. The corner of her mouth turns up as she eyes the three alien men standing for them. “You should know that, after all, it was your roommate that ran off and married one.”
“Thor is not a space alien! He’s from Ikea? No, Iceland, ugh, I don’t know. Anyways, there’s a difference between illegal aliens and the outer space kind!”
“But look at them, Darcy. They’re hot.”
“So, hot,” Darcy agrees. Sta-eeev turns his head towards her, eyebrows arching up on his fur free face. Embarrassment heats Darcy’s face and she jerks her eyes over to where Zam and B-uk-ee are trying on sunglasses from Natasha’s vast collection.
“Come on it’ll be fun,” Natasha says. A predatory smirk works its way across her face. “Not-So-Little-Boy-Blue for you…and I’ll take Sam-”
“Zam,” Zam says across the room.
“…and the one with the metal arm too,” Nat says, a smile sharp as her best hair scissors lighting up her face.